


Alone

by paperlessprinter



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Imported, Time War Angst, from teaspoon, newly regenerated, pre-Rose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-01
Updated: 2014-03-01
Packaged: 2018-01-14 05:29:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1254673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paperlessprinter/pseuds/paperlessprinter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The newly minted Ninth Doctor awakens from a traumatic regeneration and has to rebuild what's left of his life. Pre Rose.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Baptism By Fire

**Author's Note:**

> * * *

 

 

Alone by paperlessprinter

**Summary:** The newly minted Ninth Doctor awakens from a traumatic regeneration and has to rebuild what's left of his life. Pre Rose.  
 **Rating:** All Ages  
 **Categories:** Ninth Doctor  
 **Characters:** The Doctor (9th), The TARDIS  
 **Genres:** Angst  
 **Warnings:** None  
 **Challenges:** None  
 **Series:** None  
 **Published:** 2012.07.29  
 **Updated:** 2012.12.03

 

Alone by paperlessprinter

Chapter 1: Baptism by Fire

**Author's Notes:**

* * *

  
Everything hurt. That wasn’t supposed to happen. His eyes opened and he found himself staring straight up at the ceiling, which was obscured by smoke. The stench of things recently burnt or still burning surrounded him. He couldn’t breathe. There was a pressure on his chest squeezing down on him, keeping him pinned to the floor. He tried to get up but found his arms and legs refused to cooperate. So he remained flat on his back, utterly alone amidst the sights and smells of destruction. He closed his eyes for a moment.

It was the quietness that woke him up sometime later. Might have been a few seconds or several days. He didn’t know. But for the first time in what felt like forever, everything was quiet, both inside his TARDIS and inside his mind. Even when he was stranded on Earth he could feel the pull of the Time Lords in the furthest corner of his mind, a pull that got stronger anytime the Master came around. _No, that can’t be right, he thought. They’re all just hiding, or giving me the silent treatment. That must be it._ He cast his mind as far as he could go. He didn’t know where he was but he blindly barreled outward in a desperate attempt to reach somebody, anybody. Just a gentle tug to remind them he was still there. Yet no matter how many times he cast out, he didn’t get any response.

He was alone.

More time passed. Again he couldn’t tell how much. He noticed the stench of burning wasn’t as strong and the smoke had mostly cleared from the ceiling. Also he found he could move his head and neck. For the first time since he awoke, he was able to able survey the damage. His bookcases were gone. It wasn’t like there was a debris pile of books and broken shelves smoldering in the corner. They were just gone. He hoped his TARDIS had managed to save them and move them somewhere else. Sometimes she moved things around just to change things up but he always knew beforehand.

It was disorienting laying there and realizing the walls were gone. He tried to picture the console room as it was supposed to be but it was difficult. All that easily came to mind was the red leather chair he would read in during the long flights. Which was towering just beyond his head, battered and bruised but not broken. If he craned his head and looked beyond his chair, he could dimly make out some of the round bubbles that made up his walls in themes past.  
Wait a minute, he never had those walls with that chair. He remembered oak paneling or some sort of silk wallpaper depending on her mood. In a panic he threw his head as far it could go in the opposite direction, looking beyond his feet. There were sections of walls that felt a lot closer than they should be and then there were gaps where he could see out into space. He was partially exposed but knew he was safe because of the air bubble. It was just the first time he could recall where the TARDIS had to deploy it inside herself.

Whatever was wrong with his ship, and there was no doubt that there was something very wrong, he hoped she could fix herself if he gave her enough time. But maybe he should see if he could set her down somewhere out of the way so they could fix themselves in peace.

A foot moved. Jerked is more like it. He could see the limb scrape across the floor. It didn't feel like it was his. But its twin followed a second later and before he realized it he had flipped himself onto his stomach and pointed his body in the direction of the console. He slowly made his way forward, half crawling, half dragging himself. Everything screamed as his body scrapped across the metal grating, some type of floor he didn’t recognize. Only ten feet separated him from the console but it felt like it took forever. His strength was failing him; he didn’t think he’d make it. Finally he grabbed the base of the console.

Slowly he reached for the edge of the console and pulled himself up until he was standing before it. Panic filled his body and competed with the pain, for a moment overtaking it. Before him, the TARDIS controls swam and blurred. Something so intimately familiar was suddenly foreign and alien. Where to start? He was at a loss. He swayed, gripping the edge for strength. Finally he realized that whatever had happened to the walls had affected the console too.

At least he could still make out six panels, despite recognizing one from when he stole the TARDIS all those years ago. Through a process of elimination he worked out where to input the coordinates and without thinking typed out the second most familiar destination he knew.

There was a large jolt that knocked him back to the floor. A noise filled the room that was more of a groan than normal. He wasn’t the only one in pain. The TARDIS vibrated beneath him in protest. From where he lay he could see the unforgiving vortex spiral around them. He knew all about the mechanics of how his TARDIS was supposed to move through the vortex but this had to be the first time he saw what it looked like while he was traveling inside it. The more he watched the spiral engulf him the more he realized it was quite hypnotic. He felt what little strength he had left flow out of him as he closed his eyes again.  


* * *

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=47540>


	2. Baptism By Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The newly minted Ninth Doctor awakens from a traumatic regeneration and has to rebuild what's left of his life. Pre Rose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * * *

 

 

Alone by paperlessprinter

**Summary:** The newly minted Ninth Doctor awakens from a traumatic regeneration and has to rebuild what's left of his life. Pre Rose.  
 **Rating:** All Ages  
 **Categories:** Ninth Doctor  
 **Characters:** The Doctor (9th), The TARDIS  
 **Genres:** Angst  
 **Warnings:** None  
 **Challenges:** None  
 **Series:** None  
 **Published:** 2012.07.29  
 **Updated:** 2012.12.03

 

Alone by paperlessprinter

Chapter 2: Baptism by Water

**Author's Notes:**

* * *

  
A thud woke him up with a start. As he opened his eyes, silence and stillness surrounded him. It was the exact opposite of what he awoke to before but just as disconcerting. Without the chaos or hum of the TARDIS the silence inside of him was deafening. As his senses adjusted a panic arose within that was a response to the silence. He felt his body seize up as the panic grew.

Before it became unbearable he bolted from the TARDIS. He didn't even check exactly where they had landed; he was desperate to hear something other than the silence. He pulled the TARDIS doors open and in his haste tripped over her threshold and fell into soft sand.

His ears were bombarded with the roar of the ocean. He lay nose deep in the sand while he drank up the sound of the tide coming in and out. With each incoming wave his panic level decreased. After ten waves he noticed he wasn't tingling in terror anymore. After a further five his body was calm enough where he was finally able to notice the absence of the intense pain from before. He pushed himself out of the sand and sat up with relative ease.

Judging by the type of sand and the temperature he could tell he was somewhere near the equator, but where exactly he had no idea. With his TARDIS out of commission until she was able to repair herself, he wouldn't find out anytime soon.

Since he was stuck there for a while, he leaned against the TARDIS and watched the waves come in and go out. She still felt warm and despite being outside he could smell a subtle aroma of something burnt. He brushed his hand across the wood above his head and felt a few paint chips rain down on him. He shook them out of his hair and scooted away from the TARDIS.

It was then he noticed the burnt smell followed him. He had assumed it was his poor TARDIS but it was actually him. In all his pain and panic he never noticed that his clothes hung about him in half burnt tatters. For a moment he just sat there staring at the remnants of his clothes. Then he sprang up and started pulling at his shirt, ripping it from his body as fast as he could. His pants never stood a chance as he shoved them down to his ankles, the few patches fabric left tearing. With long strides he ran toward the ocean, leaving the remnants of his former life half buried in the sand.

The water probably warmer than he thought it would be, but it felt good on his skin. He ran into the waves as far as he could until a powerful one nearly flipped him upside down. Then he started swimming straight out, diving under any incoming wave. Eventually they got smaller again until there was barely a disturbance on the surface of the water. There he paused in his swimming to turn around and spot the TARDIS on the shore. She wouldn't be going anywhere but he still felt protective of it.

He wasn't sure exactly how long he floated out there, the shock and trauma of the regeneration was still playing tricks with his sense of time. But he was able to track the movement of the sun, which helped.

He tried to force himself to remain as still as possible, only moving to remain afloat. He needed to confront the sudden silence within him head on and conquer it. This far out there was no roar of the ocean to comfort him and keep him company. He closed his eyes and cast out once more for any connection to his people. He knew it would be futile but it didn't stop him from trying at least once more. With a deep breath he focused on a mantra. I'm here. It's me, the Doctor. Please is anyone out there? Anyone? I'm here. Please. Over and over he repeated it long after he would have gotten a response had there been anyone to respond.

Frustrated and angry, the Doctor flipped over and dived as deep as he could. He swam straight down, pushing himself further than any human could go. As he felt his lungs burn he simply turned on his bypass. That single act separated himself from everyone else on the planet, isolating him even further.

The ocean floor was in sight, the sand smooth and featureless as the shore. When he reached the bottom he tried to sit on the floor, but his buoyancy made it a struggle to remain hovering a few inches above. He used the eggbeater kick, grateful to have learned it one summer during UNIT training. Still he refused to surface, content to stay where it actually was silent and made sense for it to be. Only when he felt his bypass failing did he kick off from the floor and ascend.

He repeated the process several times, and each time he broke the surface of the water, he noticed the sun had moved further west. As much as he would have loved to, he could not continue for fear that he could lose sight of the TARDIS. When the sun touched the horizon, he guessed he had time for one more dive before it would get too dark.

Down on the bottom he kept his mind still as the water above him. He was tempted to try to reach out one last time but he knew it would be futile. So he consoled himself with the silence and the stillness of the ocean floor, wanting to never return to the surface again.

But soon after there was a voice in the back of his mind. At first he was elated because he thought someone was finally answering his call! The he realized the voice sounded too familiar to come from some distant Time Lord. His TARDIS was singing to him, happy once again now that she had finally repaired herself. He flailed along the ocean floor before launching himself towards the shore. Once he broke the surface, he swam and body surfed until he could get up and run. He covered the remaining feet between him and his beloved ship in a desperate gallop. Despite being soaking wet and naked he pushed open the doors to the phone box and stepped inside.  
   


* * *

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=47540>


	3. Coming Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The newly minted Ninth Doctor awakens from a traumatic regeneration and has to rebuild what's left of his life. Pre Rose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * * *

 

 

Alone by paperlessprinter

**Summary:** The newly minted Ninth Doctor awakens from a traumatic regeneration and has to rebuild what's left of his life. Pre Rose.  
 **Rating:** All Ages  
 **Categories:** Ninth Doctor  
 **Characters:** The Doctor (9th), The TARDIS  
 **Genres:** Angst  
 **Warnings:** None  
 **Challenges:** None  
 **Series:** None  
 **Published:** 2012.07.29  
 **Updated:** 2012.12.03

 

Alone by paperlessprinter

Chapter 3: Coming Home

**Author's Notes:**

* * *

  
The roundels were back. They weren't exactly the same but it was hard to miss the circles embedded in the wall panels. That was what surprised him the most, that she would bring them back. He stood on the threshold of the TARDIS and took in her new look. She had given him a completely new desktop theme, bathed in an unfamiliar green-golden light. There were several tall coral struts that climbed from the floor to the ceiling. She must have used a nearby reef.

His spacious console room of the previous iteration was replaced with a smaller more circular one. It was still larger than the early themes, where he could feel claustrophobic sometimes if he had a handful of companions at once. But here felt cozy and expansive at the same time. He liked it.

He closed the door, blocking out the sound of the ocean. It was so good to hear the thrum of the TARDIS again. She was happily humming in the back of his mind, but now that he was inside, he could feel her in his bones.

He took a small step and winced in pain. For the first time she had made the floor a metallic grate. It was an interesting choice, one that didn't make sense until he noticed it was a ramp which slopped up to the console in the center of the room.

A twinge of cosmic angst settled upon him as he walked up the ramp. Gone were the nice even panels of his classic hexagonal console. In their place was a smooth rounded basin that was filled with a various hodge podge of instruments and trinkets. Instead of order, there was chaos. Could he even fly her now?

As he slowly circled the console, he studied the new panels to figure out what the controls did. Some were easy guesses as she had still given him an old keyboard for input, but some he had no idea. He was so engrossed with his new console he didn't notice an old beaten up jumpseat until he bumped into it. "What's this?" he spoke out loud for the first time in what seemed like forever. "Where'd you find it?" He studied the seat closely, never seeing it before anywhere in the TARDIS. The white leather was dirty and cracked, the stuffing bursting through the corners. "On second thought, I don't want to know."

Hesitantly he poked the seat, afraid it would disintegrate at his touch. The leather was well-worn and felt soft and smooth. He had no idea if it would hold his weight, so he slowly backed onto it until he was sitting as comfortably as he could. The spring beneath the seat gave an audible sigh as his full weight was on the chair, but the leg stand did not buckle.

From the seat he could prop his feet upon the console, but he had a feeling the real reason she had put it there was that it was within easy reach of the most important controls. And he could spin the display screen around to face him as well. If he ever actually got good at flying this thing, he might be able to relax during his trips.

Sitting there for a while, he closed his eyes and let the hum of the TARDIS surround him. He tried to picture the console in his mind or at least where the important controls were. The faster he could memorize the layout the faster he could get underway.

Except he realized he had forgotten one important thing. It wouldn't do to travel in the nude so he should really hunt down the walk-in wardrobe that he kept on the TARDIS and find a new outfit. It was one of his regeneration traditions except this time he had gotten distracted with almost losing his ship. But now that his girl was alright it was time to see after himself.

He slid off his new jumpseat and walked in the direction of where he remembered the wardrobe was from the last time he had used it. He had finally stopped wearing that crazy Wild Bill costume from New Year's Eve San Francisco.

But before he could even leave the console room, something caught his eye. A black leather coat was wedged into one of the coral struts that held the room up. He reached over the rail and yanked the jacket out of its nesting place. It wasn't like him to leave clothes laying around the console room, so this must have been one of her gifts to him.

The leather felt smooth and strong. It wasn't brand new, but already had the perfect level of broken in-ness. He knew this would be his jacket. He just need to find some trousers and a jumper to wear underneath. As he walked out of the console room, he shrugged the leather jacket on. It would be his armor for as long as he needed it. No matter where he went she would be there with him, protecting him.  


* * *

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=47540>


	4. Temptations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The newly minted Ninth Doctor awakens from a traumatic regeneration and has to rebuild what's left of his life. Pre Rose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I used the one of the images Clive shows Rose in the pilot as inspiration for this chapter.
> 
> * * *

 

 

Alone by paperlessprinter

**Summary:** The newly minted Ninth Doctor awakens from a traumatic regeneration and has to rebuild what's left of his life. Pre Rose.  
 **Rating:** All Ages  
 **Categories:** Ninth Doctor  
 **Characters:** The Doctor (9th), The TARDIS  
 **Genres:** Angst  
 **Warnings:** None  
 **Challenges:** None  
 **Series:** None  
 **Published:** 2012.07.29  
 **Updated:** 2012.12.03

 

Alone by paperlessprinter

Chapter 4: Temptations

**Author's Notes:** I used the one of the images Clive shows Rose in the pilot as inspiration for this chapter.

* * *

  
It was bittersweet to surround himself with so many people. The crowd was animated, and their chatter formed familiar background noise. Except for once it only came from around him and not from within. Maybe one day he would learn to accept the silence inside him, but it was not today. The feeling of emptiness was still too raw and new to get used to.

Still he shifted his feet as he waited with everyone else for the motorcade to drive by. With each passing second the temptation to intervene grew, and so did the tickle in the back of his mind. This was a fixed point in time, the Doctor knew. But he wondered if he would be more or less likely to follow the rules now? They were laid down by his people for a reason obviously, and he had fled their non-interference lifestyle long ago. But even in his most rebellious days he never touched a fixed point in time. What was the point in having fun if the universe was collapsing about you?

There really was only one way to find out.

Before he could stop it, his mind played it all out as if his people were still alive. As soon as he stopped the motorcade and warned the secret service what was about to happen, his people would arrive after detecting the disruption in time. He'd be seized and forced to watch as time was put back in place, the chaos spreading around them as if they weren't even there. Then he'd be brought to trial for crimes against time. The Doctor winced as he remembered the last time he was on trial. It wasn't even his fault then but he had taken it as a personal offense. He was angry and brash as he danced about the courtroom trying to prove his innocence. Until he realized how much worse it actually was. Until everything stacked against him was threatening to come crashing down -

"Hey mister, you alright?" A child tugged at his coat. He opened his eyes, not remembering having closed them. His cheeks were wet. Probably what caught the child's attention. He didn't bother responding. To speak out loud would reveal his very non-American accent. Instead he slowly shook his head, wiping his cheeks to try to hide the fact that he had be crying.

The roar of the motorcycles leading the procession drew everyone's attention down the street. With each passing car, the tickle in the back of his mind grew stronger. It became a loud buzzing that was too annoying to ignore. If he were to make this trip worthwhile and intervene now would be the moment. All he had to do was weave his way through the crowd onto the street and get an agent's attention. He knew where Oswald was hiding. It was a shame they didn't.

The last car with the star attraction drove by and the crowd grew wild. John Kennedy just had a way with people that he could easily charm them, even in states inhospitable to progress. It was all in the smile. Even from his position several people deep, the Time Lord could still see the President's white teeth.

Once the presidential motorcade had passed, the connection between him and the moment broke. The buzzing in the back of his mind suddenly grew very quiet. He barely could feel it if he didn't strain himself. Time around him began to slow down. The crowd surrounding him all turned in unison to face the retreating car.

He knew it was time to go. He pulled the collar of his coat straight up and trudged towards the TARDIS. Eyes cast down to avoid eye contact with anyone. No need to draw attention to himself now.

A shot rang out across the plaza as he put his key into the lock on the TARDIS door. The echos bouncing off the buildings made the shot sound more like thunder than anything else. For a small moment everyone was silent, and then panic broke out as the crowd scattered. Time sped up again as their screams reached him.

Once inside, he moved with long strides up the ramp to the console. He pushed a few buttons to make the time rotor spring to life. He needed to get away as quickly as possible, didn't matter exactly where, so he set the coordinates for earth orbit. With a loud whoosh they were off, disappearing from the alleyway just as the panicked crowds reached it.

He shouldn't have been surprised at how many emotions that single point in time stirred up for him. He had to admit that he was proud he managed to resist the temptation to change history. Now it would be up to him to keep time and history in check. But he was more sad and angry than anything else. He didn't ask for this job.  


* * *

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=47540>


	5. Perchance to Sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The newly minted Ninth Doctor awakens from a traumatic regeneration and has to rebuild what's left of his life. Pre Rose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * * *

 

 

Alone by paperlessprinter

**Summary:** The newly minted Ninth Doctor awakens from a traumatic regeneration and has to rebuild what's left of his life. Pre Rose.  
 **Rating:** All Ages  
 **Categories:** Ninth Doctor  
 **Characters:** The Doctor (9th), The TARDIS  
 **Genres:** Angst  
 **Warnings:** None  
 **Challenges:** None  
 **Series:** None  
 **Published:** 2012.07.29  
 **Updated:** 2012.12.03

 

Alone by paperlessprinter

Chapter 5: Perchance to Sleep

**Author's Notes:**

* * *

  
The first night sleeping in a new room was always somewhat worse than typical. The feeling was amplified for the first night sleeping in a new body. So he kept putting it off. He wasn't surprised when he found himself aimlessly drifting, intentionally delaying it as long as possible. He had even gone the extra step in halting his travels across multiple time zones because even time travelers get jet-lagged.

Since he emerged from the ocean weeks ago he had rediscovered nearly every room of the TARDIS. In her redecorating frenzy she had moved them all around. The first couple he found were the kitchen and the library, two rooms that he seemed to visit the most besides the console room.

After he had rediscovered those two he wandered around his TARDIS, asking her to hide his bedroom for now. He told himself didn't need it yet but the real reason was he didn't want to see it. Thankfully she compiled, letting him find the zero room instead in case he needed a break from everything. He appreciated her gesture but felt okay, especially after his catharsis on the ocean floor. Looking back upon the time he spent submerged down there he realized that was probably as close to the zero room environment he could have gotten on earth.

What he needed was distractions more than anything else. So he kept an active lookout for all of his activity rooms, including the squash courts and swimming pool.

But she knew how tired he was getting. As the days without sleep stretched into weeks and she finally caught on with what he was trying to do, she clucked in disapproval. He just ignored her, demanding more thrills and activities. He had to keep moving.

Eventually the TARDIS put her foot down, and refused to help show him anything. The Doctor was on his own now. She even stopped talking to him. But instead of relenting and searching for his bed, he went off to the library and began the ambitious task of reading every single book he owned alphabetically. He also went through the extra effort of shielding his thoughts from her. Now totally cut off from her, The Doctor was trapped in the library, at least until he admitted she was right and went to bed.

He had a sneaking suspicion that she had somehow managed to make certain books of his just disappear, because there was no way he owned this many boring books in a row. For one thing he seemed to only have Encyclopedias filed under E. Surely the Ender's series should have been there along with Eragon and Elementary, Data - a 24th century parody of Sherlock Holmes where the famous consulting detective was an android.

Despite the dry reading material, he didn't actually admit defeat until he had trudged all the way to G. Once he realized that the Comparative Board Game series he had just picked up had 26 volumes, he laid his head on the desk. He didn't feel like learning all about the many variations of chess throughout the galaxy (again.) Though he had to admit the section on live chess, where if you moved a piece more than a set number of moves it became charged with at least 1200 volts of electricity (but often times a lot more!) was pretty interesting. Unfortunately it had been the most exciting and fascinating piece of writing that he had encountered in the last few days, which was the pathetic last nail in the coffin of his stubborn endeavor.

"Alright," he spoke out loud for the first time since he had retreated to the library. He also undid the mental walls he had built up. Both of them felt a little foolish. "You were right, I guess." He was the first to admit some wrong. A yawn escaped him that was so loud and long that he really only felt the TARDIS hum happily rather than hear it.

So the Doctor finally escaped the library, blinking in the golden light of the main corridor. It was time to find his room. He stumbled, half slid down to the nearest door from the library. In all his explorations, he could remember where exactly this door lead to. Theoretically it could be anywhere except the library or the console room, which she never seemed to move.

The door itself was pretty old. From one angle, as he had approached it, it appeared to be ancient and knotted wood with a giant brass handle near the center. But when he stood before it and shifted his weight, it was made of smooth stone. This didn't exactly bode well for him, really only signified that the TARDIS couldn't quite make up her mind for this particular room.

The Doctor dragged the heavy door open with a bit of trepidation. But he knew it was his room as soon as he saw it. Once the full effect hit him his hearts sank all the way into his feet. "Oh. Oh dear. You've redecorated. I'd don't like it."

The room was a spitting image, down to the exact dimensions, of the room he had as a child on Gallifrey, 900 years ago. There was no way that she did this by accident. At least he knew his TARDIS had every intention of being sincere and helpful, but having something that so closely reminded him of his home was too much too soon.

His bed was in the corner, just like in the original room. He stumbled to it and fell onto the bed, not even bothering to take off his leather jacket. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he felt himself fall into a deep sleep and began to dream.  


* * *

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=47540>


	6. Perchance to Dream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The newly minted Ninth Doctor awakens from a traumatic regeneration and has to rebuild what's left of his life. Pre Rose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some ClassicWho references. The Doctor's family (well their names) are mine.
> 
> * * *

 

 

Alone by paperlessprinter

**Summary:** The newly minted Ninth Doctor awakens from a traumatic regeneration and has to rebuild what's left of his life. Pre Rose.  
 **Rating:** All Ages  
 **Categories:** Ninth Doctor  
 **Characters:** The Doctor (9th), The TARDIS  
 **Genres:** Angst  
 **Warnings:** None  
 **Challenges:** None  
 **Series:** None  
 **Published:** 2012.07.29  
 **Updated:** 2012.12.03

 

Alone by paperlessprinter

Chapter 6: Perchance to Dream

**Author's Notes:** Some ClassicWho references. The Doctor's family (well their names) are mine.

* * *

  
He was back on Gallifrey, and had just turned 8 years old. His family had traveled into the Capitol for the initiation ceremony for the Academy. There was a set of scarlet and orange chapter robes with his name on them. As soon as he got them though he crossed it out and scribbled his nickname Theta. Theta was so much cooler than his given name.

"When can I go?" his younger sister whined, not for the first time. Normally he could ignore Gillian when she got on his nerves, which was more often than not. But today she was extra hyper and annoying, excited by the trip into the Capitol and all the hustle and bustle around the Academy. As soon as she found out that her big brother would be going there, she begged her parents to let her go with him. Their mother, Rosanna, gently explained to her that she would have to wait until she turned 8.

But he would not let her ruin his big day. He adjusted his new chapter robes for the thousandth time. Despite what his mother told him, he swore they didn't fit quite right. Not that it mattered much. He was only allowed to wear his robes on special occasions such as the initiation ceremony until he was fully vested within the Prydonian chapter.

He tried not to show it, but he was actually very nervous. Once they left the Great Hall, his parents would leave the Academy while he would retreat to his room. The rules for first years at the Academy were very strict and strongly discouraged any contact between the parents and students during the year. He knew the rules were there for a reason, mainly to insure that all the students, even the youngest ones, were self-disciplined enough for the many years of study that lay ahead of them. But that didn't stop him from thinking they were stupid.

"Theta," His mother's hand on his shoulder pulled him from his thoughts. With a quick squeeze, she pointed him to the section of the Hall where the rest of the Prydonian imitates were sitting.

"Good Luck Sig!" Gillian yelled, using her nickname for him. Of course she waited until they were already across the hall. And of course her voice was loud and shrill enough to carry and be heard by practically everyone. As he walked to his seat he rolled his eyes. Theta tried to play it cool, but he could feel himself redden with embarrassment.

The first years initiates of every chapter sat in the front of their section. Theta found a seat nearly in the center of the hall. To the left were the green robbed Arcalians and the Dromeians in their silver. On the right were aptly named Ceruleans and the Patrexes in their light shade of violet. Many other first years looked as awkward and anxious as Theta felt on the inside.

Soon the Lord Chancellor silently walked onto the stage and sat down. He never made a sound, never made a call to order, but the entire Great Hall soon felt his enormous presence and fell silent. Theta tried really hard to listen to the Lord Chancellor's speech. He knew that every time lord in the hall was giving their full attention and that as an initiate he should do the same. So he did try, honest. But many of the long words that the elder time lord used were very long and foreign to Theta, going well over his head.

So Theta's attention began to wander. He tried to sit as still as possible and still look around the hall. From his seat, the ceiling and walls were very far away. Despite their distance their shade of blue was so brilliant and bright that he could make it out even from his center seat.

It didn't help that a young blonde boy kept turning around in his seat just to look at him. After the third time, theta mouthed a low "what?"

"I'm Koschei," the boy whispered. Theta could barely hear him so he leaned toward the boy. "Koschei!" he hissed into Theta's ear. His warm breath tickled and Theta had to do everything in his power not to start laughing.

A cough of disproval came from above and for a moment, Theta panicked, thinking that the Lord Chancellor had paused his speech to call him out. But it was only the older student sitting next to Koschei who wanted him to turn around. He managed to flash Theta a smile before giving the Lord Chancellor his full attention.

"-and so when a young Gallifreyan looks into the heart of the Untempered Schism as part of their initiation, they're not only looking into the center of time itself - the source and final destination of everything and everywhen- but they are also looking deep inside themselves for perhaps the first time. Let us hope, initiates, that there is a Time Lord inside each and everyone of you." the lord chancellor paused and smiled at Theta, "I wish you many years of success here, and welcome to the Academy!"

Once the Lord Chancellor finished, every student rose to their feet and clapped. Behind them, the rest of the Time Lords joined in as well, though not as enthusiastically. With a bow, the Lord Chancellor strode off stage, the applause still going strong. The blonde boy in front of Theta actually stood up on his chair and whipped and hollered before being dragged down by the older student watching him. Theta laughed loud enough for Koschei to hear, which earned him another of the boy's smiles.

Almost on cue, the applause died down until the last one clapping was Koschei. Everyone began the process of filling out of the Great Hall. Once all of time lords had exited through doors in the back, the students headed toward the front, where the Academy branched off the hall. Each chapter's first years were lead by a group of elder students.

Unluckily for the Prydonians, their housing was as far from the Great Hall as possible. They were lead through many long and twisty corridors and up several flights of stairs. Theta was utterly lost. He hoped there would be a map he could study in his room.

Finally all that remained was a special lift for Prydonian use only. It was smaller than the standard ones so the group could not go up all at once. Theta stayed behind with the second group while Koschei with a few others went first.

All that walking, from one end of the academy to the other, had made Theta's feet hurt. He leaned against the wall as he gazed though the glass. The view from up this high was incredible. All around him was orange sky, and the city spread outward from the Academy. The only other building that seemed as tall was where the High Council met.

Far off in the distance, at the base of one of the mountains, something seemed to glimmer. Theta tried to focus in on it, to figure out what it was. But in a moment several metallic husks littered the landscape from the capital out to beyond the horizon. Every single one had at least a few blackened ball bearings attached to it gleaming in the sun. Theta was horrified, and swore he could smell something burning, perhaps the glass itself. He slowly stepped away from the wall, unsure what to do or say.

Above the destruction that littered his planet, a ripple formed in the sky. It grew into a tear, an unnatural gaping hole running jagged through the clouds. As the hole grew, Theta couldn't see anything inside. It wasn't even blackness that was contrasting with the orange sky. It was pure nothingness. And as it continued growing it was getting closer.

No one else waiting for the lift seemed to notice the terror that was unfolding before them. Theta was the only one, frozen in place by fear, too rigid to even call out. With each second, each beat of his hearts, the tear grew, consuming all that was before it. When it breached the city walls, and theta saw something he thought so solid and impenetrable just simply vanish, theta found his voice and uttered a scream as loud and long as possible. In only a few more moments, the tear was upon them. The end came for theta without a bang or any sound at all, other than his scream being swallowed by the tear.

The Doctor woke up, still screaming, his voice already scratchy and raw. He had twisted and turned in his sleep so that the bed sheet was wound around him multiple times. In his struggle to untangle himself he slid of his bed and landed with a thud on the unforgiving stone floor.

He let loose a few choice words in Gallifreyan before uttering some that he had picked up from Humans. "Damnit!"

This was why he had been avoiding his room and going to sleep. The Doctor _knew_ this would happen. And there really wasn't anything he could do about it.  

* * *

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=47540>


	7. Reconnaissance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The newly minted Ninth Doctor awakens from a traumatic regeneration and has to rebuild what's left of his life. Pre Rose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References Clive's website from Rose.
> 
> * * *

 

 

Alone by paperlessprinter

**Summary:** The newly minted Ninth Doctor awakens from a traumatic regeneration and has to rebuild what's left of his life. Pre Rose.  
 **Rating:** All Ages  
 **Categories:** Ninth Doctor  
 **Characters:** The Doctor (9th), The TARDIS  
 **Genres:** Angst  
 **Warnings:** None  
 **Challenges:** None  
 **Series:** None  
 **Published:** 2012.07.29  
 **Updated:** 2012.12.03

 

Alone by paperlessprinter

Chapter 7: Reconnaissance

**Author's Notes:** References Clive's website from Rose.

* * *

  
Awaking for the second time was much less traumatic for the Doctor, except for the fact that he didn't remember how long he had been awake or when he had actually slid from numb consciousness to dreamless sleep. Once he had screamed himself mute, he simply laid in a heap on the floor. There was no point in getting back into bed. There wasn't really a point for anything anymore.

He was just thankful that he hadn't returned to Gallifrey again. Even though last night felt like hours ago, his cheeks were still wet. And just thinking of his dream brought fresh ones.

The only way to get himself to stop thinking was to bang his head against his wall. The pain was a distraction and felt good. He kept at it a few more times. Once she realized what was going on, the TARDIS pulled the wall back a foot without the Doctor noticing. He leaned back, expecting to hit his head again but instead fell over.

"Not funny!" he squawked when he propped himself back up. In the back of his mind he swore he heard her laugh. His voice was horribly hoarse and his throat was raw. So he thought his disapproval more than voiced it out loud. Even if she didn't acknowledge him, the Doctor knew his TARDIS understood.

As much as he just wanted to lay there, she knew better. Again. So she put the kettle on. After a few minutes, the noise was piercing and loud enough to get the Doctor up.

Today the kitchen was a stone's throw from his bedroom. When he had stumbled into his room the night before, the kitchen was on the other side of the library and the console room. Even though she was a pain in the ass sometimes, at least she was a nice pain in the ass.

Still by the time the Doctor actually got up from his tangle of blanket on the floor and shuffled into the kitchen, there was just enough water left in the kettle for one cup of tea. He turned the burner off and poured the water into a mug with a teabag already in it. The TARDIS thrummed encouragingly, while he only sneered in response, content to stay in funk a little longer.

The tea was a welcome relief for his sore throat. The first few sips were scalding in a soothing way. The Doctor felt a bit better with each one, but before he knew it the tea was gone.

So he refilled the kettle and waited for it to boil. He wasn't sure what he was going to now that he had gotten the first big sleep out of the way. He figured he would poke around the console room and see if the scanners had found anything interesting while he was passed out.

Fresh tea in hand, he ambled through the corridors, memorizing where each room was for now. The TARDIS had been moving rooms around a lot lately, so hopefully, now that The Doctor was rested and ready to explore again, she would slow down.

It had been a few days since he had been in the console room. As he approached, the lights flickered on. Everything was as he had left it. For the first time he noticed how empty it seemed. And quiet, if he ignored the TARDIS in the background.

He couldn't let himself dwell on that. Maybe one day he'd get lucky and find a traveling companion, but for now he had to make the best of it. For now it was just him and his TARDIS against the universe.

The Doctor sipped his tea as he eased himself on to the jumpseat. With a few quick switches and buttons, the monitor displayed the highlights of what he had missed.

A star was born while he slept. The pictures of the nebula and everything inside it were stunning. Looking at them gave the Doctor an idea. He carefully balanced his mostly empty mug on the console and ran to the TARDIS doors which he threw open. The nebula was so large that its edge came to his doorstep. He could lean out and gather some stardust if he wanted to. It was moments like this that reminded him of how wonderful it was to travel.

The monitor beeped, dragging him from the door and back to the console. A link to a website sat on top of the pictures. It was human made, probably from either the end of the twentieth or beginning of the twenty-first centuries judging by the simple, two dimensional layout. But it wasn't the website design that had caused the alert. There was only one line of large text above a slightly blurry photo of a man. "Doctor Who?" His stomach sank when he realized that it must be him. It was the same leather jacket.

One link near the bottom said to Contact Clive. The Doctor quickly pulled up a search algorithm to track down when and where this Clive was. He needed to have a chat with him, figure out where he had gotten his data and then probably wipe his memory and destroy the website.

As the algorithm was running, he clicked on the only other link, which led to another page of photos. There was a sketch of the TARDIS on a beach, with the dateline of Sumatra. So that's where they had ended up. And of course there was a blurry photo of him among the crowd at the Kennedy motorcade in Dallas. He should have known there would be photographers covering that event but he wasn't quite thinking.

But it was the third photo that really floored the Doctor. There he stood with a family on the docks at Southampton in 1912. If he didn't know these were photos of himself, he would have just assumed it was the family's butler. But the description listed him as "friend" with the Daniels family, who had tickets for the Titanic but at the last minute decided not to travel.

Already his gears in his mind were cranking to life as he plotted out his idea. He plugged in perhaps the first set of specific spacetime coordinates into the console. He knew he couldn't interfere with the Titanic at all but this photo proved he did go back and save at least someone from the disaster. Maybe at the end of the day that's all that mattered. With a final button pressed they were on their way.  


* * *

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=47540>


	8. White Star Line

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The newly minted Ninth Doctor awakens from a traumatic regeneration and has to rebuild what's left of his life. Pre Rose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's one more photo on the Doctor Who? website to inspire a chapter.
> 
> * * *

 

 

Alone by paperlessprinter

**Summary:** The newly minted Ninth Doctor awakens from a traumatic regeneration and has to rebuild what's left of his life. Pre Rose.  
 **Rating:** All Ages  
 **Categories:** Ninth Doctor  
 **Characters:** The Doctor (9th), The TARDIS  
 **Genres:** Angst  
 **Warnings:** None  
 **Challenges:** None  
 **Series:** None  
 **Published:** 2012.07.29  
 **Updated:** 2012.12.03

 

Alone by paperlessprinter

Chapter 8: White Star Line

**Author's Notes:** There's one more photo on the Doctor Who? website to inspire a chapter.

* * *

  
There was a special energy on the docks of Southampton that April morning. And not just because they were thronged with people eager for their journey.

Just walking by the immense ship made the hairs on the Doctor's neck stand up. The potential energy of the moment pulled at the back of his mind, just like in Dallas. But more than a few days removed from the actual event made the buzzing in his head subdued, bearable even.

As the Doctor strolled along the dock, looking for a specific family among thousands, he could see all the possible interventions to prevent the ship from leaving. A crew member to warn or an officer to delay. Or even an engineer to get drunk. The variations played out in his mind's eye but they all ended in the same result as the "original" timeline. As tempting as they were, he couldn't let them distract him.

He was walking as fine a line as he ever had in all his years. Using a photo found on a conspiracy theorist's (The Doctor would have used nutter if Clive wasn't right) website as an excuse was pretty thin reasoning, but if the photo existed it meant that he had already been here. Now that he knew about it, he had to make an effort to complete the cycle.

So there he was, perhaps the only person walking the dock that wasn't working or gazing up in wonder at the ship.

He missed his leather jacket. He had worn it so much since the TARDIS had given it to him that it had begun to fell like a second skin. Parading around, the Doctor couldn't help but feel naked.

At least he didn't stick out though. When they had landed earlier that day, the TARDIS wouldn't let him leave without changing. Nine times out of ten he never changed, and was unassuming enough to waltz through whenever he landed in whatever he happened to be wearing. But she had seen the photo of him with the Daniels family and knew what it meant, almost better than he did.

Off to the wardrobe room he went. He brought up the photo on a monitor, and went off in search for the right clothes. It was a guessing game and he had tried on three different outfits before he found a mix of businessman and man servant that looked close enough to the photo.

He turned off the monitor and was about to leave when he noticed a small unassuming leather wallet that seemed to be waiting for him. He opened it, found two blank cards that he couldn't remove. Weird. On a lark he closed it and then opened it again. This time both cards came alive with hundreds of different names, titles and other various important identifiers. Each one flashed faster than the one before it until the Doctor lost count. It took a full minute before the cards returned to blank again.

Realization dawned on him that he had received another gift from his TARDIS. The Doctor pocketed it with a silent mention of thanks before heading out.

From studying his photo, he knew the Daniels family he was looking for wasn't third class which helped narrow his search down. Hundreds of steerage passengers were queued up, waiting to be inspected before they were allowed to board. With his outsider's perspective, it was easy for the Doctor to see how it was unfair to force the third class to wait while the second and first were welcomed aboard without a second glance. Unfortunately he didn't really have time to get into an argument about class welfare.

He was so focused on the faces in the crowd, the Doctor didn't notice when a member of the White Star Line tried to stop him. The time lord nearly collided with the steward.

"Excuse me sir, only first and second class ticketed passengers beyond this point. May I see yours?"

The Doctor didn't respond right away. He was usually able to talk his way around these sort of things. At least that was what happened before. But now... "My ticket? Uh, yes of course, I had it a minute ago..." He flashed a smile, hoping to put the steward at ease as he handed him his new found leather wallet. "There we are."

The steward took the wallet without a word and studied it. The moments before he said anything stretched on and on for the Doctor. He felt his smile falter as he began to worry that this plan of his would be halted before it even really started. Finally the steward handed the wallet back to the Doctor. "Everything seems in order. Enjoy your trip Mr. Smith."

The Doctor's smile grew wide. "Thank You." He found that the passengers waiting in the first and second class section of the dock were much more orderly as most had someone else handling their luggage.

He paused to check the photo one last time before scanning the crowd. His hearts beat faster for a full minute as he thought he had missed the Daniels family and they had already boarded. But near the back of the second class line, a little girl emerged from behind a large crate, and she was chased by an older sister. They looked just like two of the girls in his photo.

The Doctor walked to the end of the line where he soon found the rest of the Daniels family. Miraculously they hadn't lined up for boarding yet. The mother had her hands full as she was attempting to corral her four children together. In her arms she carried her youngest, a girl, while a little boy stood by her as he stared at the gigantic ship, his mouth hanging slightly open. It was her eldest daughter that was chasing down the last one.

Unaffected by the family chaos nearby, Mr. Daniels stood by some stacked crates. The Doctor overheard some snippets of exasperated conversation as Mr. Daniels tried to get a problem with his luggage sorted out. He tried to get as close to Mr. Daniels as possible without being noticed. Perhaps this wasn't the best time to approach with an urgent business opportunity, but the Doctor didn't have any other options.

"What do you want?" Mr. Daniels nearly barked as he finally saw the Doctor.

The Doctor held out his hand, intent on introducing himself as an equal. "I'm John Smith, Mr. Daniels." The lie came easily.

"How do you know my name?"

"I've recently begun working with one of your Southampton business partners. A merchant by the name of..." The Doctor paused and opened his wallet, where the name Johnson emerged from the blankness. "Johnson." He stole a glance at Mr. Daniels. The man's face seemed to be slowly easing from confusion to recognition. "He said that I would find you here today."

"Ah, well Mr. Smith, as you can see, I'm a little busy here." Mr. Daniels was trying to brush the Doctor out of the way. And it wasn't like the Time Lord could blame him. But he decided to press on, desperate to delay the family and get the photo taken.

"He also told me to let you know he had an urgent business proposition that might interest you."

Mrs. Daniels approached her husband, all four children finally in tow. "Robert, who's this?"

"Mr. Smith, who works with Mr. Johnson."

The Doctor bowed his head towards Mrs. Daniels. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance Ma'am." He turned to Mr. Daniels. "Is there any chance we could talk in private?"

"Robert, the ship," Mrs. Daniels reminded her husband.

Mr. Daniels looked back and forth from her and The Doctor, who could sense his wavering.

"Mr. Johnson did mention that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity." There was a bit of urgency in his voice and he looked Mr. Daniels square in the eye. Once he got eye contact again he projected Trust me you want to see this (your life depends on it) as strong as he could in the hopes that Mr. Daniels would catch his drift.

"Well." one more glance at his wife before he returned the Doctor's gaze. "It wouldn't hurt to check it out."

Mrs. Daniels was not expecting that response. "Robert! But the ship-"

"Doesn't leave for another hour. This will take five minutes. Don't worry Mary."

The doctor withdrew to give Mrs. Daniels some space. He could tell she was irritated at him. But he could also tell the children were becoming antsy and soon she'd have her hands full again.

"I've got a letter from Mr. Johnson that explains it," The doctor handed his new wallet to Mr. Daniels once they were on the other side of the crates. He wasn't sure what his wallet would say. This wasn't as simple as masquerading as a ticket. Whatever it was it had the intended effect as the color drained from Mr. Daniels' face when he finished reading the letter and handed the wallet back to the Doctor.

"And you're sure?" he croaked out.

"Absolutely."

"What should I tell Mary?"  
"Whatever you know will convince her to not board the ship. Though why worry her with the truth when a simple lie will do?"

Mr. Daniels remained where he was and gazed at the ship for a few moments. "And you can't-"

"No." The doctor cut him off. He knew what the question was. "Your family was the only one I could save."

"Why?"

"Because it already happened." He showed the copy of the photo he had printed out. He would have to find a photographer to take their picture soon.

Mr. Daniels looked from the photo to the Time Lord and back a few times. The Doctor just shrugged. "Time travel's weird like that. Never a straight line."

To the Doctor, it was the most normal trivial thing, but to Mr. Daniels it was like the sky was falling around him. He blindly handed the photo back to the Doctor and sought out the steward who was trying to track down their luggage.

"I'm sorry sir, I still haven't found the last parcel."

"That's okay, Jones, turns out we're not going," Mr. Daniels said without really looking the steward in the eye. He spoke loud enough to be overheard by his wife, who came storming over, children in tow.

"What the dickens is going on?"

"Trip's canceled m'dear."

"I thought I heard you say that but I couldn't believe my ears. Why?"

"Business opportunity, as Mr. Smith described to me, we must delay our trip to America in order to take advantage of this. Once in a life time opportunity."

As the Daniels were deep in conversation, The Doctor silently crept forward and began to scan Mrs. Daniels. She had a right to be angry at her husband, but the time lord found it very easy to convince her to just go along with what her husband was suggesting. Soon all of the Daniels' luggage was put back on to the cart it arrived in.

The Doctor, hovering close by but trying to stay out of the way, spotted a large camera bobbing among the remaining crowds on the docks. He quickly hailed the photographer down and showed him the fake wallet which was now filled with fake cash. It was easy to convince Mr. and Mrs. Daniels to pose for a photo with their family as a form of record keeping for Mr. Johnson.

As the flash went off and the image was locked into the camera, the Doctor felt a subtle pull inside of him. Somehow, without any game plan, he had managed to preserve the history that he had stumbled into.

It seemed like he was back to his old tricks again.  


* * *

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.  
  
This story archived at <http://www.whofic.com/viewstory.php?sid=47540>


	9. And Finally

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The newly minted Ninth Doctor awakens from a traumatic regeneration and has to rebuild what's left of his life. Pre Rose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * * *

 

 

Alone by paperlessprinter

**Summary:** The newly minted Ninth Doctor awakens from a traumatic regeneration and has to rebuild what's left of his life. Pre Rose.  
 **Rating:** All Ages  
 **Categories:** Ninth Doctor  
 **Characters:** The Doctor (9th), The TARDIS  
 **Genres:** Angst  
 **Warnings:** None  
 **Challenges:** None  
 **Series:** None  
 **Published:** 2012.07.29  
 **Updated:** 2012.12.03

 

Alone by paperlessprinter

Chapter 9: And Finally

**Author's Notes:**

* * *

  
For the first time since his regeneration, the Doctor could swear he felt content. When he returned to the Tardis after his escapade in Southampton, he was greeted with a purr from his ship. She was glad that he managed to get himself out of that potential paradox that Clive's website set up without destroying all time and space.

As soon as he was safely inside he changed out of those ridiculous clothes and back into his jumper and leather jacket. He finally felt like himself again once he was reunited with his jacket.

He didn't know where to go next but figured he shouldn't hang around in Southampton for too much longer. His presence was already recorded but he didn't want a mysterious blue box to show up in the history books along with the photo.

Maybe he could find something to eat in the kitchen. At the very least he could make himself a cup of tea. Recently the Doctor and his ship had been getting along so she hadn't been playing many tricks on him. And as soon as he set out from the console room thinking about tea, he found the kitchen just across the hall.

Or one of them. A bit smaller, it was more like a cross between a pantry and a kitchenette than the full sized one he normally frequented. A short narrow corridor was lined by cabinets and counters on both sides and it opened up onto a small table set for one. On top of one counter was an electric range with a kettle waiting for him. She knew what the Doctor wanted before he finished realizing it.

He filled the kettle with some water and set it on the range, turning it on to medium high. In the first cabinet he opened he found both a box of tea bags and a clean mug.

Before he knew it, the Doctor was sitting at the table with a mug of tea in front of him. Usually he would enjoy a nice cuppa as he read in front of a fire. He hadn't celebrated that little ritual since his previous incarnation.

And that was before.

The War.

Everything that had happened since then had seemed like a blur. And when he closed his eyes the traumas and the wounds seemed just as fresh as the first time he awoke in the burning TARDIS. The silence that surrounded him was almost as oppressive as his first day on the beach in Sumatra. The dreams he had whenever he went to sleep were just as vivid as the first one from which he awoke screaming.

And yet he was handling it. Of course she was helping him. He talked to her a lot now, both aloud and in his mind. Every once in a while he still visited the zero room just to tune out and give himself a break. But the Doctor hadn't visited since he had discovered Clive's website. And now that he had mostly settled the Clive situation (he decided to let Clive and his site live. Lots of nutters were online perhaps the truth would be drowned out by all the other conspiracy theories) he realized that he didn't need another trip to the zero room.

Now what? The Doctor sipped his tea as he pondered his fate and his ship spun on around him.

He should make a list and figure out what he had now that everything had settled. An inventory of his life.

The Doctor got up from his chair and opened the first cabinet above him. He found a pen and pad of paper on the bottom shelf. There she went again, helping him find what he needed.

The first sheet of paper looked like a half finished shopping list. The handwriting was unfamiliar - it must have belonged to a previous incarnation or maybe one of the recent companions, but he couldn't remember exactly who. The Doctor quickly ripped the sheet off and crumpled it up. He didn't need any of those thoughts bringing him down again. He needed to be strong.

He took a gulp of tea and cricked his neck. He held the pen hovering above the paper for a moment as he considered how to start this inventory. In one quick motion he drew a line down the sheet that made two columns. Without any labels he began to fill in one side

  * Galifrey
  * Time Lords
  * Skaro
  * Daleks



and then the other.

  * Earth
  * Humans
  * UNIT
  * Shadow Proclamation



It wasn't long before he realized how little was left. Perhaps he had always known, in the back of his mind, but seeing it set out on paper brought a certain finality to it. Practically everything of his former life was gone. Only his adoptive home of Earth was spared any carnage. but only because the humans were still lesser beings unaware of time travel. The Doctor was confident that if the humans were aware of the war that raged above them, then the Daleks would have certainly added the planet to their path of destruction. They certainly had no problems attempting to invade Earth before. He had managed to stop them every time.

The Doctor put down the pen once he finished writing out the list. Very carefully he tore the sheet of paper off the pad and folded it multiple times. By the time he had finished it was a very small square that was several layers thick. The time lord tucked it into a small pocket hiding in the front of his jacket. The paper sat just above one of his hearts. No one would know it was there except for him. As long as he had his jacket he would always have the reminder of what he had lost in the war and how hard he would work to protect what he had left.

So it was time to get to work. The Doctor got up from the table, finishing the dregs of his tea in one last gulp. He left the pad and mug on the table and made his way back to the console room.

The room didn't feel as large and lonely as before. When the Doctor first stepped inside he had felt swallowed up by his ship. The walls of the console room stretched on forever and he was all alone in the middle of it.

Of course the size of the room stayed the same once the TARDIS stabilized. But now his senses weren't dulled by the overwhelming loneliness or the traumas. In fact now the Doctor felt pretty clearheaded, so he shook himself of those thoughts and brought up his scanner. He set it to check for alien involvement on 21st century Earth. Any date before official first contact with any species would make aliens come up as bright green alerts.

The TARDIS hummed away, happy to be working once again. She probably hated being bored and restless just as much as he did, if not more. It didn't take long for a few green pins to show up on the model of the planet.

The first couple sightings the Doctor checked, both in South America, were actually two species who would make first contact within the next fifty years. It seemed they were on innocent reconnaissance missions. For now he let them be as he checked out the rest of the list.

It was the second to last result that made the Doctor pause with concern. It seemed a colony of Nestene had set up shop in London. The time lord scoffed in disgust. He had encountered them before more than a few times. Of all the aliens to run into it had to be the Nestene. Well it could be worse, the doctor thought, at least it wasn't a Cyberman.

It seemed there was a relay set on top of a department store downtown that would be easy enough to knock out. but from the TARDIS in orbit there was no way he could get an exact location of the main transmitter. He would have to get on the ground and poke around to see what he could find.

A small smile crept onto his face. Just like the good old days.

*

It was easy enough to slip into the basement of Henriks. In all his travels the Doctor had always found the back door the one to use. If you walked in like you belonged there people assumed you did and left you alone. It was amazing what you could get away with if you had the right attitude.

The Doctor waited patiently in the basement until he knew the store had closed. He kept the small bomb hidden in one of his pockets out of sight. Though it was tiny it packed quite a punch. He had a feeling security wouldn't be too happy if they caught him trying to plant a bomb. Besides, he didn't want any one else to get hurt. This was his job to do. Alone. He wouldn't have anymore death on his hands.

The only company he had in the basement were plastic mannequins filling the hallways. They looked perfectly normal - and not broken either - so why weren't they out on the store floor? The Doctor walked around the hallways counting them. For one department store that only had maybe six floors of retail space at the most there were several hundred mannequins here in the basement. On a hunch he took out his sonic screwdriver and scanned one. The mannequin reached out and tried to grab his arm but the Doctor was too quick, stashing his sonic back in his pocket. He knew what the result was without even looking at the readout. These were autons all right, controlled by the Nestene through that relay.

He moved down the hallway to get away from the auton that was waking up. The other mannequins slowly turned to face him. Their unseeing eyes and blank faces were creepy. He walked faster. Ahead there were more autons moving, blocking his way and cornering a girl. The Doctor had no idea why she was down in the basement, but he reached her just as one was about to strike. Without thinking he grabbed her hand. "Run!" He shouted and half dragged her down the hallway until she was able to match his stride.

The autons waddled after them. With all of their plastic, they couldn't move fast. Still they were nearly trapped before the lift doors opened. Of course one auton managed to stick his arm into the lift and keep the doors from closing. The Doctor wrestled with it, managing to yank it out of the joint. As soon as it was separated from the body, the arm just became regular plastic. He tossed it to the girl absentmindedly.

"You pulled his arm off!" It hadn't quite set in for her, but the Doctor didn't have time to explain everything and hold her hand.

"Yep. Plastic."

The lift took them to the ground floor. The Doctor walked her to the back door. She was full of questions, which the Doctor answered without thinking about them too much. He just wanted her gone.

"Wait who are you? And who were they down there?"

"Living Plastic. They're controlled by a relay up on the roof. It'd be a big problem but there's this." The Doctor took out his bomb and flashed it at the girl before stuffing it back in his pocket. "So, I'm going to go up there and blow them up, and I might well die in the process, but don't worry about me. No, you go home." He opened the door and pushed the girl though into the alley. "Go on with your life. And don't tell anyone about this." He closed the door and headed back to the lift, fingering the bomb in his pocket.

He only took a few steps before he stopped and turned around. The girl at least deserved to know his name right? And he was curious to know hers. The Doctor opened the door and found her still in the alley. She hadn't moved. "I'm the Doctor, by the way. What's your name?"

"Rose."

"Nice to meet you, Rose. Run for your life!" He flashed the bomb again and closed he door for good.

The Doctor quickly got up to the roof and was surprised at how easy it was to plant the bomb. He didn't run into any more autons. Perhaps they were still early in their invasion and were trying to maintain their disguise. So the time lord was able to determine the best place for the bomb in peace. He was even able to give himself enough time to get to the TARDIS before detonation.

He spilled out onto the street and caught a glimpse of the blonde hair girl as she walked past the alley where he had parked the Tardis. She didn't even give it a passing glance. Above them, the bomb went off. The explosion rocked the building, littering the street with glass from the windows. The Doctor ducked into his Tardis before anyone showed up. For a moment the yellow haired girl Rose popped into his mind. But as he walked up the ram to his console, he cleared his head. He had the Nestene to track.  


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